Zetsubou
by Colette Irving
Summary: He knew upon regaining consciousness that he had failed.


Author's Note: Oh, hey, I've written a fanfic that I actually feel good about! It's totally dark, and my friend has convinced me that I'm a sick, twisted individual for writing something like this, but oh well...Oh, and "zetsubou" is Japanese for "despair," if you didn't know.

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><p><strong><span>Zetsubou<span>**

He knew upon regaining consciousness that he had failed. He could feel his blood pumping in and out of his heart and air entering and exiting his system through a pair of plastic tubes.

The TV's volume was low, but he was pretty sure it was some game show. He could hear someone flipping through a magazine nearby. Some voices echoed through the halls, along with the discomforting beats of equipment and the sounds of stretchers and wheelchairs being pushed around, but no one was speaking in his own room. The silence was quite haunting. He'd been living among happy banter for the past few years, but suddenly he was back in his old house, a building just as quiet when his father was home as it was when he was out drinking and gambling.

He kept his eyes closed and pretended to be asleep for a few more minutes. He didn't have the energy to deal with whoever else was in that hospital room, especially considering that he had already screwed things up badly enough to prevent any conversation among them. He wasn't sure if anyone not related to him would be allowed at his bedside, but Sanae and Akio must be there, at the very least. His father might even be permitted to leave prison to visit. He wouldn't be surprised if some friends were in the waiting area. He kept his fingers crossed that they weren't. Kyou and Tomoyo would likely beat him up for what he'd done, as if he weren't in critical condition already. Kotomi would probably get admitted herself after going into shock, like she did when she thought Ryou had been in that accident back in high school. Ryou? A few years ago, she would have cried uncontrollably, but she might be really accustomed to this type of thing now, since she was studying for a medical career and all. Yukine probably _would_ cry uncontrollably, feeling déjà vu of her brother's passing. He wasn't entirely sure how Sunohara would react, but his idiocy would certainly only make the situation worse.

He sighed mentally. He'd have to wake up eventually; better to get it over with now, right? He pulled his eyelids apart quickly, as if ripping off a band-aid. Sure enough, his in-laws were sitting next to him. Sanae instantly looked up from the cooking magazine on the table that she probably wasn't actually reading, and a bittersweet smile spread across her face.

"Tomoya-san! Thank goodness!"

Akio bit an unlit cigarette in half and approached his bed.

"Hey, brat, it's about freakin' time!"

The man's voice cracked a bit, but he didn't cry. Neither did Sanae. He searched the room for a calendar and quickly found one a bit to his right. If the date was correct, today was December 29th. It had been five days since she had gone (and four since he had tried to join her); how were they not crying? She was their _daughter_ for crying out loud; they'd known her for her entire _life_. He'd only known her since high school, and here he was attempting suicide. How could they possibly be so strong?

Then he looked into Sanae's arms, and a burst of guilt punched him in the gut.

_Ushio._

They were being strong because they had no other choice. He had no choice either; he'd simply neglected to remember during his mental breakdown that Christmas Eve had not only been a day of death. A human being had entered the world that day, and that human being was his _child_.

He shouldn't be in that hospital, not just because being in a building erected upon the very land where Nagisa had once experienced a miracle was incredibly inappropriate when she was dead, but because he should have never made that rash decision to end his own life. He had almost made a little girl an orphan because he was too weak to continue living without his wife. At least he'd had the opportunity to spend a few years with Nagisa; Ushio would never even _know_ her. Besides, he had plenty of other people who loved him; he knew that. One of those people disappearing didn't mean he had nothing left. He was so _pathetic_.

He was no better than his father.

Sanae placed her hand on top of his, nothing but a white sheet separating her warmth from his cold nothingness.

"Ushio, look! Papa's awake! Aren't you happy?"

He looked at the tiny fingers reaching up to play with Sanae's hair, and then down to the baby's face. Normally, he couldn't tell one infant from another, but this one bore a strong resemblance to her mother. That face, right there, that should be his reason to _live_, but he wasn't sure if he could handle looking at it every day and knowing that the other person who produced it would never come back to him. He knew that was a terrible way to think, but then, everything he'd been thinking lately (while he wasn't comatose, that is) was terrible.

"H-hi," was all he could manage to say.

"Tomoya-san," Sanae replied, "I think you should know this right now. Ushio is going to be living with us for a while. I think that would be best…for everyone."

"You're probably right," he agreed, nodding to the best of his ability.

"But don't think you're off the hook, kid," Akio chided. "Our granddaughter needs a father."

"I know." A wad of self-hatred formed in his throat. "I'm sorry."

There were no _it's okays_, no _I forgive yous_; for it was not okay, and he didn't deserve forgiveness. The previous storm cloud of silence returned below the ceiling.

After what could have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes, Sanae spoke up.

"Tomoya-san, please promise me you'll never do this again. I…I can't lose both of my children."

An anvil of guilt dropped onto his head, as if it weren't soul-crushing enough before. He'd been wrong. He'd been selfish and irresponsible and completely _cruel_. And yet…

"I can't."

"You _bet_ you can't!" Akio spit what was left of his horribly mangled cigarette onto the floor. "'Cause I'll tell you what, kid! If you even start thinkin' about killing yourself again, you'll never get the chance because _I'll_ kill ya first!"

"No." He turned his gaze downward, unsure if he'd ever be able to look Sanae or Akio in the eye again, to say nothing of Ushio.

"I meant...I can't make that promise."

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><p>Author's Note: How you want to interpret this fic is up to you, but when I was writing it, I intended for it to take place in the anime universe, meaning that Nagisa comes back in the end, and obviously, Tomoya does not kill himself.<p>

Also, I think it is important to say that despite the ending possibly not making this clear, I do not in any way advocate suicide, and I would like to let any readers know that even if I don't know you, if you are ever considering ending your life, you can feel free to talk to me. Please, talk to _someone _because I'm sure there is at least one person who would be sad if you died. Just remember that.


End file.
